Imagination
by 12fostea
Summary: A bit of random Emmy x Layton fluff that I wrote a while ago. Basically they're solving a mystery somewhere and they're in a hotel, simple enough, right? My first fan fiction. Ever. Also my spellchecker on my laptop has gone kaput so sorry about any typos. *[CONTAINS AZRAN LEGACIES SPOILERS sort of]*


Emmy sprawled out onto the bed as soon as she entered her room in the hotel. She was absolutely shattered. After trekking around the village for nearly five hours and taking to over forty people, they still had no leads. She stared out of the window for quite some time. It was very dark, about 11pm, and the stars shonee brightly, twinkling happily against the velvet night sky. It was truly beautiful. Emmy had always loved the stars. Having grown up mostly in the middle of London, she had only really ever experienced them as dim little pinpricks of faded light. Out here in the countyside, however, they filled the sky with a multitude of bright, glistening shimmer, like some sort of incredible natural light show. She sighed, pulling herself out of the trance and trudged off to the en suite to change. She heard the professor usher Luke to his room, then there were footsteps that she figured to be the professor returning to his own, which happened to be right next to Emmy's. He knocked on the wall, making her jump.

"Just checking that you're ok." He said wearily.

"I'm fine, professor, just tired. Good night." Emmy smiled. He was always such a gentleman, putting everyone else's needs before his own. He would make a very good husba- no. She couldn't think of him like that. He was her boss. It would be... weird? Awkward? Emmy knew that neither of these would be the case. She knew deep down that they were just lies, made up by her brain to try and block out the truth of how unrealistic it all was. But it took all of her willpower to keep tears from her eyes when she thought about what was hidden under all the lies, so he prefered to ignore her conscience and preserve her feelings. It was for the best.

"Good night, Emmy" The professor replied, and she put her against the cold tiled wall. Closing her eyes, she imagined that the two of them could be together.

_He took her into his muscular arms, his large, rough hans running through her silky, brown hair. There was soft music playing in the background, and they danced, swaying slowly. There were other couples surrounding them, but as far as they were concerned, the dance floor was empty. She reached a small hand up to the professor's face and stroked his cleanly-shaven cheek. He was in a tuxedo, but like the true gentleman that he was, his top hat still rested comfortably on top of his charmingly messy hair. The fabric of Emmy's dress floated around her gently, encasing her in a beautiful cocoon of red satin. Layton smiled. "You look stunning, my dear" He whispered, his warm brown eyes gazing into her own. She smiled up at him, and pressed her soft lips against his._

Emmy didn't even notice that she was still sat, half dressed, on the floor of the hotel room's bathroom. She was caught up in a wonderful daydream, and she never wanted to leave it. But a sudden, cold draft blew under the door and jolted her away from her fantasies, leaving her alone, shivering. She returned to her bed and clambered beneath the duvet. The smallest of tears trickled down her cheek. Little did she know what the professor was doing next door.

"Good night, Emmy." He had said to her. Walking to the opposite side of the room, he slumped against a wall. "Emmy..." He thought aloud, but quietly, "Beautiful, strong, incredible Emmy..." The professor gazed absent-mindedly at the wall, and wished in his mind thathe could find the courage to ask her. He loved the way she moved, the sound of her voice that flowed like honey, her curvaceous body... he suddenly realised what he was thinking about and blushed, cursing himself for wanting what he could never have. She was his assistant, for goodness' sake, he was her boss, and though he desperately wanted to be in a relationship with her, he knew it was impossible. "Besides," He sighed, "I'm thirty-five. She's - what? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven? She still has a life to live, and I'm just a boring old archaeology professor." Tears welled up in his eyes and he let them fall. He could barely remember the last time that he had cried over a woman, it was almost nine years ago now. But he felt wrong, letting another woman intrude his thoughts while he was fantasizing over Emmy. It was easy to imagine asking her out, even though the thought of actually doing so made his knees turn to jelly, because he had imagined it almost every night since he had met her.

_They sat opposite each other at a table, inside a quaint London cafe that he knew Emmy loved. He_ _took sip of his tea and glanced nervously at her._

_"What's wong, professor? You seem... tense..." She said worriedly._

_"Well... I was just thinking..." Layton went completely scarlet._

_"Thinking what?" Emmy asked._

_"I was thinking... maybe... that you and I... well, we could be... you know... I could be more than just your boss..."_

_"Do you mean friends? Because we're already pretty good friends." She looked at him quizzically._

_"Well, yes, but maybe... maybe even more than that..." He was aware that if he kept this up any longer he would get a nosebleed._

_"Oh, you mean together? As in... together?" Her face lit up._

_"If... if you could consider it, I mean, well, I like you a lot, and I just think-" Emmy cut him off with a passionate kiss, almost knockng her empty coffee mug onto the floor._

_"Professor, I do belive that answers you question." She giggled as she pulled away._

_"Yes, it does, rather." He replied, and he was happy._

The professor awoke from his daydream and glanced at the clock. It was about 1am, and he groaned, knowing that hi body clock would give him an early start, regardless of how much sleep he actually got. He fell onto the mattress and tried to relax into what ended up being a light and unrefreshing slumber.

Emmy twisted and turned in her sleep.

_"Hahahaha! Layton, you think you can stop me now? You fool!" Bronev slammed the professor against a wall. He drew out a gun."Any last words?" Layton looked pleadingly at Emmy, as if he were begging her to make everything stop. But she couldn't. All she could do was stand there, restricted by Targent guards, and watch as they tortured him, eventually to death. It was all her fault. If only she hadn't listened to Uncle Leon, if only she hadn't betrayed the professor, if only she could go back in time and stop all of this madness from ever happening. In answer to Bronev's question, Layton shook his head. He had always said that a true gentleman would never give up hope, but now... he didn't seem so sure. Bronev held the pistol securely in his hand and pressed it againt Layton' temple. There was silence, then he pulled the trigger..._

"NO!" Emmy woke up screaming. "No... no... no..." She pulled her knees to her chest and began rocking back and forth, tears pouring down her cheeks. Suddenly, the hotel room door burst open.

"Emmy! Are you ok? I heard screaming and..." He trailed off, seeing her tear-stained face. The professor sat down next to her and she hugged him tightly. Putting his arm around her, her pulle her close, and she sobbed jerkily into his shoulder."It's ok, Emmy. Don't cry... what happened?" He whispered, concerned.

"You were... you were dead! And it was all my fault and... oh professor!" She wailed.

"Don't worry. I'm alright, but we need to be quiet, Luke is sleeping. I'll get you something to wipe your face." He reached for the box of tissues that sat on the bedside table and handed them to her.

"I'm sorry..." She sniffed, " Thank you..." After sitting still a moment, she suddenly lept up from the bed and looked very alarmed. "No! Don't look at me! You can't see me like this, I'm in a state..." She looked at him and sank to the floor. "You think I'm mad, don't you?... Oh professor, please don't think any less of me..." She started to cry again. Layton crawled over to her and cradle her in his arms, stroking her hair.

"Why on earth would I think any less of you?"

"Because... because I've broken down. I'm usually so strong... but now you've seen me like this... I'm a mess - and I look awful..." She looked up pitifully into the professor's eyes.

"My dear, that is ridiculous. Even the strongest people feel weak sometimes, and you still manage to show strength in your tears. And in regard to your appearance, Emmy, you always look lovely and this is no exception." He replied.

Her eyes widened in surprize at his last remark. "You really think that?"

He nodded "Why would I ever think otherwise?"

She sighed and stood up. "Thank you for comforting me..."

"That's quite alright. But you did seem rther distressed... would you like me to... stay with you? Just for tonight... I mean... well..." He blushed.

She turned round on her heel, disbeliving."Oh... oh yes, professor! That would be... that would be most reassuring." The professor followed her back to her bed and just hoped s much as he could that it wouldn't be awkward. His wish was granted. They lay together between the blankets, andd the professor dropped off quickly. Emmy was quiet, but she was jumping for joy inside. She couldn't have been more happy. "I love you, professor." She whispered, almost inaudibly.

The professor stirred."Mmf... pardon?" He said sleepily.

"Ummm... Nothing!"


End file.
